


Gotham's Most Wanted

by BatsyBatsyBatsy



Category: Gotham (TV), Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-14 09:27:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9173641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatsyBatsyBatsy/pseuds/BatsyBatsyBatsy
Summary: Harleen Quinzel finds a someone she never expected in a world she's convinced is out to get her (highschool AU)





	1. Pride

**Author's Note:**

> This entire story is set in the highschool age.

“You’re proud of yourself! Aren’t you girl? Smug, is that it?” Max Quinzel held his daughter down on her bed by her neck, his spit flying into her face as he yelled.

“Please, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Harleen gasped, pulled at the clutch on her neck. Of course, that was a lie, she knew exactly why she was in this position, but he didn’t need to know that.

“I got a call from some snivelling snob of a parent today.” He spat, releasing her throat, but his tone accusatory. “She seemed to think you stole something from her ratty kid. I told her she was insane because my daughter is no filthy crook. My daughter appreciates what I’ve given her!” His tone returned to a yell with the last sentence.

“I swear it! I didn’t take nothing from no one! I’m telling ya, honest!” She pleaded with him, she could already feel fingerprint bruises forming on her neck.

“You know Harleen, I almost believe ya, but this is in case you’re lying to me. You don’t lie to me girl, as far as you’re concerned, I’m your god.” With a vicious grin he snagged her by one of her pigtails

Harleen stumbled after him, desperate to keep her footing and he yanked her across the shabby apartment. An especially hard tug on her hair had her on her knees, and he dragged her the rest of the way, her body flipped and twisted as she tried to regain her footing, but she just ended up creating more pain for herself. They ended up in the bathroom.

“This’ll teach ya,” He growled, slamming the toilet seat up, strands of her hair hanging from his fingernails.

“Wha-What are ya doing?” Harleen asked, still rubbing her head from where she had been dragged.

Her father didn’t answer, just grabbed her by the back of the neck, and plunged her head into the toilet water. She struggled against him, he only let her up for air for a few seconds at a time. Over and over and over.

~

Harleen sat on the grimy bathroom floor, leaned against the tub, face and hair sopping wet. Her father had left probably 15 minutes ago. He had tossed her aside when he was done with her like some useless piece of trash. He wiped his hands off on his jeans like it was nothing and growled something about the bar, he wouldn’t be back for hours.

Hands shook as she curled her white fingers on the counter top, pulling herself to her feet. She stared at herself, eyes hard, in cracked grubby mirror. Her black eye from a week ago could now pass for and intense eye bag, but now her forehead was home to a small cut along her hairline, where her head had connected with the toilet bowl. Her neck was sprinkled with five circular bruises.

Her bottom lip refused to stop quivering, and tears pricked at her eyes, threatening to make even mascara tracks down her face.

“Stop it.” She whispered to herself harshly, taking a face cloth from the sink, rubbing away at the black smeared across her face. She continued to run the cool water over her face, and breath the air she really needed to learn to appreciate. Next she turned on the tap, and flipping her blond hair underneath the water massaging the rest of the toilet water out of her locks

“You’re fine, everything is fine. You are okay.” She repeated it like a mantra, over and over again, until she believed it.

Everything was fine, the night’s punishment was over. Her father would come home and pass out on the couch, or maybe he wouldn’t come home at all; a girl can dream.

Looking at herself in the mirror again, she did believe she was okay, at least in her head. Outside her hands still shook uncontrollably. She was okay on the inside though, because she deserved what she got. Her father had been right, she did steal, and she was proud of herself.

It was just so simple, the laptop was sitting right there, alone, on a library table. She needed a laptop, and there one was, a free one at that. All she had to do was slide it into her beaten up messenger bag, and it was her’s.

Breathing slightly easier, she crept across the apartment with trembling knees, back to her room. As she sat on her bed, she heard the unsettling BANG BANG BANG, she flinched with each one. Her father banged everywhere he went, every move was a bang. How could be back so soon? Had he come for more? Was he not done with her? BANG BANG! Followed by muffled yelling. Harleen felt as if she could cry with relief, it was coming from the apartment across the hall.

She needed to get out of this damn building, she felt as if she was going crazy, her father’s footsteps around every corner. Harleen grabbed her thin winter coat that was probably three years old at this point, and began to tiptoe toward her front door.

Fact: the sound of a creaking door when you’re trying to be quiet is equivalent to the sound of a gunshot.

“Please, please, please,” She prayed silently, hoping no one would walk around that corner and see her halfway out of the apartment. Halfway. She was almost out, a few hours of freedom.

Finally, about 7 years later, the door was safely closed behind her, and she was standing in the dimly lit hallway of the apartment building. At least 70% of the lights that were supposed to light this hallway had burnt out long ago, but maintenance was more of myth than an actual service offered in this building.

She started to head for the staircase, when and especially loud BANG sent her to her knees, cowering against the wall. But again, it wasn’t her father, it was that apartment across the hall, the apartment she was currently sitting outside of. Just like the last set of BANGs this one was followed up yelling, getting increasingly louder, until wooden door flew open, crashing against the wall next to her head.

“I’ve had it! You won’t step foot under my roof again until you learn some fucking respect you ungrateful, childish boy!” A women appeared in the doorway, dragging a boy, whom Harleen assumed was her son, by the collar of his shirt, and threw him to the floor of the the hallway. “You’ll sleep out there tonight, sweet dreams fucker.” And with that the woman slammed the door.

Harleen sat in shock, from almost being crushed by the door, and by what she had just witnessed. The boy sat with his back to her slumped against the wall across from her, she didn’t even think he knew she was there. His body shook slightly, was he crying?

“H-hey? Are you okay?” She stood shakily, and crossed the hallway to put her hand on his shoulder. He turned to face her, more like whipped around, and there were tears streaming down his cheeks, but his lips bore a huge smile. He was laughing.

“Fan-fucking-tastic, sweetheart!” He laughed. Harleen almost jumped backward from the smell emanating from his mouth; he reeked of alcohol.

“That sounded like sarcasm,” she pressed him.

“Oh you must be a cop with a brain like that, smart as a whip, aren’t ya doll?” He was laughing so hard, his sentence was broken up between gasps for air.

Harleen really didn’t feel like being made fun of, especially by someone has drunk as he was. She began to shrink away from him.

“I don’t like the cops…” she muttered as she retreated.

“Not the biggest fan of them myself, they keep arresting me, and sending me back to my straight-up satanic mother.” The boy rolled over off the wall so he was lying flat on his back in the middle of the floor. Harleen hugged her knees against the wall.

“She seems like a lovely woman.” Harleen cracked a half smile, this sent the boy back into a fit of laughter, confusing her. It was no where near that funny.

“Oh she’s a saint!” He laughed. “Constant yelling, never-ending, 24/7 yelling. It never stops, never. I’m a failure, a disappointment, nothing I do will ever be good enough for her. Who is she to judge anyway, a fucking 50-year-old whore, who’s slept with everyone and their brother in Gotham. She doesn’t have a fucking clue who my father is.” He was still laughing, despite his story getting sadder and sadder. “I’m a fatherless, 18-year-old guy! I have mummy issues, and daddy issues, that on top of all the other shit fucking up my brain! I’m stuck Harleen, this is gonna be my life, I’m gonna be my mother, raising kids I hate, or another penniless crack addict, fathering children left and right, and leaving them every time.”

“Oh…” Harleen whispered as the boy pulled himself up against the wall to sit facing her. Those piercing blue eyes reflected exactly what she was in her own when she looked in the mirror. Exhaustion, both so damn tired.

He had said her name, he knew her, and now that she was looking at him, how did she not recognize him sooner? Jack something or other. Everyone knew just Jack, the school’s most infamous bad boy. You couldn’t even call him a bad boy, what he was went past that. He was suspended more then he was actually in school, no one really knew why he wasn’t expelled already, but rumour had it the principal was afraid to do it, afraid of him, afraid to put him on the streets. He spent evenings in jail, but they couldn’t hold him based on mental illness. Some say he was faking it all, but you couldn’t have eyes like her and his and be faking it. You couldn’t come from homes like theirs and be faking it. In fact, she would be more inclined to believe she was faking it, if he wasn’t screwed up.

Jack was still laughing, he hadn’t stopped the whole time, but that smile on his face wasn’t happy. The laugh was more of a Look-How-Fucked-Up-My-Life-Is kind of smile.

Harleen crossed the hall to him, sliding down the wall to sit next to him, and tilted his head to rest on her shoulder.

“I’m a world class head case.” he whispered.

“Me too.” She replied.


	2. Greed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for a long chapter, long for me at least

For the first time in a very long time, Harleen didn’t wake up with fear on her mind, she woke up with thoughts of him. He knew her name, poured his heart out, sat with her for almost two hours. She would have sat with him all night if it hadn’t been for the sounds of her father BANGING on the bottom floor. The second she heard that, she had disappeared back into her family’s apartment in a flash, not even checking to see whether Jack was awake or not.

Jack.

She sighed happily as she slid out of bed, put on some clothes, and blinked on some mascara. Expertly, she tied her hair into two pigtails for two reasons, 1) It was adorable and 2) It made her look more innocent, less people would suspect her of her little crimes. Obviously the pigtails hadn’t worked their magic when it came to stealing Miranda Costello’s laptop though.

Harleen carefully poked her head out of her bedroom door, and surveyed the situation. Her father was passed out on the couch like she assumed he would be, an ash tray full of cigarettes and empty beer cans surrounded the floor around him. She swore her life came straight out of an angsty teen novel. Her mother was no where to be seen.

She tiptoed her way to the front door like she had done last night. She passed the kitchen on her way and froze. Her mother’s wide, glassy green eyes caught her own blue one. Harleen was caught with her backpack slung over her shoulder, leaving way earlier than she needed to, and her mother was caught clutching a nearly empty vodka bottle in one hand, and raiding the alcohol cabinet for more with the other. The alcohol cabinet was the only reason her mother ever went into the kitchen anyway. They both said nothing, slowly returning to what they were doing, a silent agreement to keep what they saw a secret.

As Harleen began to descend the spiralling staircase to the main entrance, she briefly glanced over the railing and she was so glad she did. Jack. The unmistakably fluff of black spiked hair was two flights below her.

“Jack!” She called. He looked up, and when he saw who it was, he rolled his eyes and kept going. Harleen wasn’t going to stand for that. She jumped down the stairs two at a time to catch up with him, but it wasn’t until they were out on the street, and she saw the back of his over-sided purple hoodie was she close enough to call his name again.

“Jack!” She yelled again, he was only ten-feet ahead of her now. This time he didn’t keep quiet and continue walking. This time he whirled around, and ran at her. He slapped a hand over her mouth, and dragged her into one of the plentiful ally ways that littered this street. It took everything she had not to completely flip out. From her experience in life a hand over her mouth meant suffocation, but he released her as soon as they were alone in the ally, he wasn’t going to hurt her.

“Are you insane? You can’t just yell in the middle of the street in this part of town this early in the morning, you’ll be shot! Are you stupid?” He reprimanded her. Harleen’s eyes narrowed at that remark.

“No, I am not. Don’t call me that.” She ordered me. He just rolled his eyes, and began to walk away again. “Hey, I’m talking to ya! No one’s gonna shoot me ‘round here cuz they know who my father is, he works with Falcone.”

“For, not with, for, you’re father is scum.” Jack retorted, but he didn’t seem angry, just bored. This is not how she had wanted this conversation to go. And Jack was walking away again.

“Hey! Stop doing that!” Harleen whined jogging to catch up with him. “Look I don’t disagree my dad’s scum, I’m just saying the people ‘round here no not hurt hurt Falcone’s people.”

“And I’m just saying, you ought not to feel so safe. You think cuz you’ve got a big bad dad, you’re fine, but you’re dad isn’t one of Falcone’s ‘people’, he just thinks he is. Falcone’s wouldn’t care one way or another if your daddy was dead, not to mention his annoying daughter.”

“You didn’t find me annoying last night,” Harleen mumbled.

“Is that what this is about? Look Harleen I’m sure you’re a sweet girl, but I don’t do sweet. I was drunk last night, that why we talked, that’s why I told you all that stuff. Just because we had one conversation does not mean we have some sort of connection now. I was so fucked up, I would have had a heart to heart with the fucking wall.” 

“I think you’re lying, I think you liked talking to me, and I think you’re just trying to push me away now because you’re afraid of human connection.”

“What the fuck? You think you’re some kind of psychologist?” Jack gave her a confused and annoyed look all rolled into one facial expression.

“No, but I’m taking a psychology class, and I’m really good, so I’ll probably end up being one.”

“Well I hate psychologists, they’re all idiots you think they're helping me. They don’t, just want their fat paycheque.”

“You don’t think being able to read people and pick apart their mind is fun?”

“I can already do that, I don’t need a class.”

“Fine whatever, we’re getting off topic, there’s a reason I wanted to talk to you.”

“And what’s that?”

“I think we should be friends.”

Jack actually laughed at that one, not the same laugh as last night. This one was real, he found actual humour in her statement.

“No thanks Harleen, I don’t really do friends.”

“I know, that’s why you need me, so next time you get drunk you won’t be having that heart to heart with the wall.” She giggled, she swore she saw a hint a smile on his lips. She only ever saw him smile when he was wreaking havoc on the school.

“You only want to be friends because you have none.”

“I do!” she defended herself.

“Like who?”

“Well I got Red, you know Pamela Isley?”

“Oh, that chick hates me more than the average person, but congrats on your one friend!”

“I have more than one! I got, um, Selina Kyle!”

“You’re friends with Selina Kyle?”

“Well yeah, sorta, kinda, well we have an understanding.”

“So no, not friends?”

“I guess not.”

“Didn’t think so. Let me rephrase Harleen, I just don’t think we should be friends. You’re nice and everything, but you’re too sweet and innocent. You wouldn’t enjoy the things I like to do in my free time. I mean you smell like cotton candy for fuck sake.”

“Try me, Jack. You might be surprised.”

“Harleen, your hair is in fucking pigtails.”

“Fuck off.”

“Oh, she swears, how rebellious!” He covered his mouth with his hand in mock horror. “Okay, for example the reason I’m off to school so early is this. You see that ATM up ahead? Yeah, I’m about to break into that.”

“Oh wow, I’m so impressed, an ATM, how high risk!” It was Harleen’s turn to be sarcastic.

“Well it’s not like you’re off to rob a bank there Hun, let me guess, you’re headed off to school so early to what? Get some extra studying in?”

“Yes actually.” She shrugged as he scoffed at her. “Well that, and to stash like stuff.” She swung her bag off her shoulder and opened it to reveal it was stuffed full of electronics.

“What is all that?” Jack seemed genuinely interested in their conversation for the first time.

“Shit I’ve stolen from our classmates. Like that’s Miranda Costello’s laptop she’s all bent out of shape about. There’s phones and tablets, and just stuff like that, stuff people are dumb enough to bring to a school full of poor kids, who come from bad neighbourhoods. Like I got a solid gold pen in here Bruce Wayne brought to school.”

“Bruce Wayne huh? I hate that guy.”

Harleen just shrugged, zipping her backpack up, she didn’t really know much about him, except for the fact she had stolen his pen, and he had the locker beside her. Well that and his dead parents, but everyone knows how that song goes.

They were now stopped in front of the ATM Jack had been talking about. He crouched down and examined it’s lock. 

“Look, you may wanna get out of here, unless you want to be an accomplice.” He warned her.

“Oh you’re right, we could get put on death row for this one.”

“Fine, but I warned you.”

“So, ya gonna pick the lock?” She crouched beside him.

“I’ve never really been one for silent, sneaky crimes.” He produced a hammer from his own backpack. “I’ve always been a slut for chaos.” His face split into something that could only be described as a maniacal grin, and he laughed as he swung the hammer once, twice, tree times against the lock.

“Oh fuck!” Jack exclaimed as the door swung open, causing the both of them to jump backward slightly. “Exploding dye pack!” He was right, there was a somewhat small bang, and then bills were fluttering to the ground, coated in a thick dark blue dye that matched the dye splattered across Jack and her skin and clothing.

He scooped up a small pile of bills into his backpack, tossing the hammer in along with them. Harleen did the same trying to find the least affected bills.

“Run, come on!” Jack was on his feet and offering her his hand, he was smiling so wide. She smiled back and gladly accepted.

They took off down the street, Jack pulling her along. They wove their way through Gotham’s complicated maze of streets for at least 15 blocks. They took detours through ally ways, hoping fences using crates and dumpsters, but every time he went before her, and every time he waited to take her hand again. Jack laughed the whole time they ran, it was infectious causing her to giggle along with him. He finally stopped, turing off a main street into yet another ally, and leaned against the brick wall. They slid down into a sitting position.

“Now that’s was I call a good time.” Jack sighed. His eyes were closed and he wore the most content smile in the world. Precious. 

Harleen felt her adrenaline pumping wildly through her veins, and her lungs heaving to catch her breath. She could feel her cheeks flushed from the running and every time she breathed it felt like she was swallowing razor blades from the cold.

“I feel awake.” She whispered, mostly to herself, but Jack opened one eye, taking in her expression.

“I’m going to give you one day. We do what I want to do, and if you think you still want to be friends after that, then fine, but this is your one day to decide. It’s also my choice so if you piss me off, then you’re gone. Now, come on.” He was on his feet again. “I got somewhere we can hide your stuff, and this ink-covered clothing. He was offering his hand again.

He helped her to her feet, and led her down a couple more streets, until they ended up at the backdoor of their school.

“I broke the lock of this door last year, and they still haven’t fixed it or noticed for that matter.” Jack chuckled, holding the door open for her.

Harleen had never been in this part of the school, it was usually so clean, and orderly, but down here it was unkempt and messy.

“I like it better down here, I feel more in my element. Everything upstairs is so fucking perfect and fake. Nothing is perfect, this basement is like a reminder that even the things that seems the most put together and lovely, have secrets, dirty, broken secrets.”

Harleen ate up his words, like he was some famous poet.

“Here we are!” He announced, gesturing to a plain old grey door. She was slightly disappointed, she was suspecting something a little more hidden.

“A janitor’s closet, isn’t that a little cliche? And wouldn’t the school easily be able to get in here, and you know, find my shit?” Harleen crossed her arms.

“Maybe they could have two years ago, but around the same time I broke the lock on that door back there, I changed the lock on this one, and only I have the key.” He grinned, holding up a key chain with about four or five keys on it.

Harleen stepped closer to him, excitement gleaming in her eyes. “Now we’re talking.” She took the key chain from him, examining each of the keys. “It’s this one isn’t it?” She held up a small silver key with a circular head.

“How could you tell?” He asked, mildly impressed.

“Psychology doesn’t seem so dumb now, does it?” She giggled, turning away from him and inserting the key into the lock. He rolled his eyes.

“What are the rest of these keys for?” She asked, fiddling with a few of them.

“We’re not that close yet.” He said, snatching the keys back, and shoving them in his pocket

“Yet.” She smiled opening the door, and her mouth dropped open. The little closet was full of things, electronics, clothes, jewelry, anything you could imagine. Now it was Jack’s turn to look smug.

“You may have stolen a few bits and pieces, but I’m the king sweetheart.”

“You don’t say.” Harleen replied in awe, following him inside the little room, shutting the door behind them.

“You can toss you’re bag anywhere.” He said. “And we gotta get rid of these clothes, we may have broken into an ATM, but the world doesn’t need to know.”

“But I don’t have any other clothes here.”

“Guess you can wear some of mine for the day, here.” He tossed her a flannel and a grey t-shirt that had been handing on a make-shift clothing rack. “You’re jeans will be fine, you can barely see the stains of them.”

“You want me to change in front of you?” Harleen smiled slyly.

“I don’t care, do what you want.” He shrugged, but as she turned around and pulled her shirt over her head, she could feel his eyes on her back. She smiled, she had him.

~

“Hiya Red!” Harleen greeted her friend, sitting down at their shared table in the chemistry lab. She turned her head to see where Jack had sat. He was in the very back with the goggles everyone was supposed to keep on their faces at all times pushed up on his head, covering his wild mop of black hair.

“See I have friends” She mouthed at him.

“One.” He mouthed back, Harleen replied by sticking her tongue out at him

“Hey, Harleen! I’m talking to you.” Pamela snapped her fingers in her face trying to get her attention.

“Sorry Red! What were you saying?”

“Where were you this morning we were supposed to study? And why were you 15 minutes late to class? What are you wearing? And most importantly, for the love of god, why did you walk in here with Jack?” She spat his name out like it was poison.

“Slow down, one thing at a time Pammy! Okay, this morning, I- uh, got a little held up, I only just got to school, that’s why I’m late too. I had to change clothes, mine got ruined, and as for walking in here with Jack, he’s the reason I’m late.”

“Ugh, figures.” Pam grumbled, shooting a glare in Jack’s direction. “I hate that guy.”

“I like him, I think we’re kinda friends...” Harleen trailed off after seeing the look Pam was giving her.

“Friends with Jack? Since when are you friends with that fuck up?” She whisper-screeched.

“Pamela! Quiet down, finish your lab work.” Their chem teacher snapped, and Pam began to angrily mix their solution. 

“Honestly Harleen, being friends with Jack, is just going to derail you entire senior year. There’s a reason everyone calls him a clown!”

“Red, I think you’re being-“ Harleen started to defend him, but Pam cut her off.

“It’s because he can’t take anything seriously, and everything is a joke to him. He’s a total train wreck Harleen.”

“Listen red, I know you’re one of my only friends and I appreciate that, but shut up. You’ve never spoken to him in your life.”

“I don’t have to, to know guys like that are going no where, probably going to end up dead in the gutter!”

“Pamela!” Harleen could have started shouting at her right in the middle of class. “That was too far.” Her voice low, and menacing, so much so that Pam knew she said too much.

“I was just making a statement.” She mumbled.

“Well next time you want to make a statement like that, don’t.”

“Wait, what are you doing, that’s not right!”

Pam and Harleen turned around to see little Edward Nygma jumping around Jack’s shoulders, waving his hands. Incidentally he had ended up being Jack’s lab partner.

“Relax Nygma.” Jack was saying as he finally replaced him goggles to his face. Now, duck!” He shouted, grabbing Ed by the shoulders, and pulling him to the floor with him. Their was a small pop, then their mixture exploded. When the smoke cleared, Jack was peaking over the table, the tips of his hair singed, and the entire table blackened. Ed whimpered from the floor, but the teacher, who Harleen kept forgetting the name of, looked ready to explode himself. 

“Jack. Principal’s office. Now.” Jack stood up, bowed, and casually sauntered out of the room. A low rumble of laugher started up in the room, but one look at the teacher had everyone silent. “Edward, clean that up. the rest of you get back to work.”

Harleen turned to look at Pam, but she had already gone back to working on their own assignment, she was mumbling to herself, and shaking her head as she did so.

“Friends with Jack, I mean honestly...”

~

 

“Harleen, where have you been?” Harleen whipped her head around with a big smile on her face to see Jack walking toward her. She had been walking to the main doors with Pam, they had both been a bit short with each other that day since the events in chemistry class, but they were each other’s only friends, so they had to suck it up.

Jack walked right up to them and caught her by the arm, pulling her away from Pam, into the busy crowd of students making their way out of the school, so she couldn’t follow.

“I thought we were supposed to spend the day together, just us, that’s what you agreed to isn’t it?” Jack raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah, but you got sent to principal’s office first period, and never came back, I just figured you got suspended again.” She shrugged, but delighted at how eager he seemed to have her around.

“You think I actually went to the office? No- god Harleen, rule 1 of hanging out with me, you get in trouble, cause more. You get sent to the office, don’t waste the opportunity of being out of class by actually going where you’re supposed to, and find something fun to do.”

“So what did you do?” The were outside now, and Jack was leading to the back of the school again.

“That’s what I’m showing you.”

As they got around to the back, they were about to round the corner when Jack stopped her and physically pushed her back around they corner.

“There’s a cop car back there, and cops and they’re talking to the principal. Did you give me up? Is that why you wanted to be ‘friends’ so I’d show you where I hide my shit, and you’d give me up? Is that it?” He held her against the outside wall out the school, eyes flashing, all too alike to her father’s.

“No, get off me! I stashed my bag of shit in that room if you forgot. What? You think that was just a bag full of props? You think all that stuff was actually mine, and I’m just playing you to get you arrested again?”

“I just-“

“Don’t fucking accuse me of that shit.” She shoved him.

“Calm down, I have to cover my bases.” He looked down, apparently focused on straightening out his sweater, but she assumed he just didn’t want to look her in the eye. “It doesn’t even matter now, they’re gonna find everything in that room, all our stuff is gone.”

“No no no no, I have to get back in there, we gotta get it before they find it!” Harleen eyes widened in fear.

“Are you kidding, if any of them even see me near there, they’re gonna arrest me in a heartbeat, no, we aren’t going back there.”

“No, you don’t understand, my dad...” She trailed off, imagining wha he would do once he found out she lied, stole, and had been arrested. “My name is in my backpack with the stuff.”

“I really wanna call you stupid right now.” He shook his head, turning his back from her, trying to think. “If they find that backpack, you’re gonna go down for the whole room.”

“No, that can’t happen.” She went the corner to peak around see what was happening, and her eyes almost popped out of her head. “Jack come here, look at this.”

“What?” He peeked his head around above her’s. “No way.” He laughed coldly.

“The principal and a cop doing a drug deal.” Harleen was still in awe.

“Come on, let’s get out of here. Don’t wanna get caught spying.” He pulled her away from the wall, and started walking back toward their neighbourhood. “That’ll just teach ya, everyone is shit, no matter how good they seem.”

“I can’t argue with ya.” She agreed. They walked the rest of the way in silence, but she could practically feel the anger radiating off him.

As they reached their front doors opposite each other, he turned to her.

“You wanna come inside, my mom probably won’t be home until late?” He asked, but he wouldn’t meet her eye.

“I wanna, I do, but I gotta be home when my dad gets home and I don’t know when that will be.” She said sadly.

“Well, I could come there if ya want?” He offered.

“Yeah! Okay!” She was agreeing enthusiastically, before she thought about it. How would she get him out of the apartment before her father got home? And how would she avoid him meeting her mom?

Shakily she took her house key out of her pocket, but she couldn’t keep her hand steady enough it get it in the lock. Without saying a word, he took the key from her, and did it himself, pushing the door open. She shut the door behind them and when she turned back around, she came face to face with her mom. So much for him avoiding meeting her.

“Oh Harleen, do you got a friend over, do ya?” She drawled, giggling. Drunk as usual.

“Yeah mom, come on Jack.” She sighed, trying to lead jack past her, but her mom snatched her wrist with what could only be described as her claws.

“You know ya dad don’t like boys in the house little lady, he won’t be happy to find him here.” She smiled, showing all her yellowing teeth. Her mom used to be beautiful, but years of alcoholism, smoking, and beatings from your husband took that away from her, leaving Harleen with this broken shell of a woman, for a mother.

“Yeah, that’s why he’ll be gone before dad gets back.” She pulled her arm away, creating stinging scratch marks on the sensitive skin.

“That doesn’t mean he won’t know he was here.” Her mom laughed loudly, which quickly turned into a hacking cough, and the whole scene ended with her passing out on Harleen. She stumbled under the weight. The whiskey bottle her mother had been burning like a child slipped from her hand, and smashed of the floor.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, but could you please clean that up for me, while I put her in her room?” She had never felt more embarrassed in her life, but he just shrugged it off.

“I know the drill.” He agreed

“Thank you, there’s probably a towel to dry it up with, and a broom for the glass in the kitchen.” She directed, awkwardly pointing in the direction of the kitchen under her mother’s dead wait.

Harleen began to drag her mother’s unconscious body toward her bedroom. It wasn’t easy, no matter how fit Harleen, what a person’s dead weight is fucking heavy. She felt as if she struggled for an hour trying to toss her mother onto the bed, but in reality it was most likely 15 minutes.

Once she finished dealing with her mother, she found Jack standing back in the main entrance holding a wet towel, and a small plastic bag, witch what she assumed held the glass pieces.

“What do you want me to do with these?”  
“Nothing, I’ll take them, thank you.” She took the items from his hands, giving him a small smile.

“It’s no big deal, I’ve done it a million times.”

She led him to her tiny bedroom at the back of the apartment. He father had thrown up some pieces of ply wood and a curtain when she was born, sectioning off a minuscule corner of the living room for her bedroom. Just enough room for a bed, and a dresser stuffed in. But she did have a window, right above the bed.

“Welcome to my humble abode.” She said as she crawled up on the bed and forced open the rusted window, tossing the towel and the bag of glass outside. “Can’t have dear ole daddy finding those.”

Jack jumped and flopped onto the bed, causing her knees to buckle from where she stood on the bed, she fell, landing on top of him. but this wasn’t some adorable ‘moment’ like in the movies where their eyes meet, and their faces so close they could kiss. Instead, he knees fell right onto his groin, and she smacked her head off the wall. They both crumbled to the ground in a fit of equal parts pain and laughter. 

Once they got themselves together again, they lay side by side on her bed. She didn’t know how long they were there, but conversation with him came as simply as if they had been friends forever. He was funny, really funny, making her laugh more than she had in her entire life, and she knew she wanted him, just him.

“You know you’re name is a mouth full, Harleen Quinzel.” He commented after a few minutes of silence.

“Don’t remind me, I hate it.” She groaned.

“What you need is a nickname, I’ll have to think of one.” He said, making her smile. She liked the idea of him having his own name for her.

“Okay then, J.” 

“I never agreed to a nickname.”

“Too bad, you got one.” She smirked. He chuckled, ruffling her hair.

BANG BANG.

She knew what that meant all too well.

“Oh god, you got to go.” She scrambled.

“What why?” She could see he didn’t want to.

“My dad, he just got back, I heard him downstairs.”

“How the fuck would you have heard that, we’re on the fourth floor?”  
“Believe me, I think I’ve learned the sound of my dad, I always hear him. It doesn’t matter, he’s gonna be up here soon, you have to go!” She pushed him out of the bed with her, over to the curtain that serves has her door.

“Fine, I’ll go, but I’m not done talking to you.” He said flipping around to face her, so her hand that had been on his back pushing him out, were now on his chest.

“So, I guess that means we’re friends?” She smiled, not moving her hands.

“Fine, friends.” He rolled his eyes, he did that a lot, whether he meant it or not, and she was hit with a surge of confidence. She bawled her hands into fists, gathering his shirt in her clutch, and pulled him toward her, kissing him freely, and to her delight, he kissed back. When she released him they were both smiling.

“Just friends?” She asked.

“Go to sleep Harleen, it’s late.” He chuckled, and was still smiling as he backed out of her room, never breaking eye contact with her until the curtain forced them to.


	3. Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't going to be what you expect...

“Let’s just not go to school today,” Jack suggested, his hands holding onto her hips in the hallway of their building. “My mom’s not gonna be home all day.” He leaned in whispering lightly in her ear.

It had been a total of three days since she had kissed Jack for the first time. Three days. And she had spent every second at his side since then. He liked having his hands on her at all times pretty much, liked showing she was his, because there may not be a lot of people who talk to her at school, but that didn’t mean they didn’t look. J didn’t like people to look, just him, only he could look. And he enjoyed looking.

“You know I wanna J, but my dad will kill me if he’s sees I’m absent.” She looked up at him pouty, she learned pretty quick that her pouts held a certain effect on him.

“Come on Harl, you stole all those fancy computers, and you’re practically glued to them, just hack the school system. Make it look like you’re there.” He could make anything sound tempting. She was pretty sure if he asked her to jump off a cliff like that, she’d do it.

“That’s illegal J,” She smiled, and he laughed lowly, sliding his hands up to her waist, tightening his grip.

“And everything else we do together isn’t?” He asked. All she needed were those few moments of extra attentiveness from him, in reality she had no objections to spending the day with him in an empty apartment, it sounded pretty good to her.

“Okay,” she shrugged. He had been very close to her throughout the entire conversation, and when she agreed to his proposition, he leaned down and kissed her roughly, pushing her up against the wall with his lips. It took everything she had not to start smiling as wide as she could. Instead she kissed back with the same intensity, wrapping her arms around his neck. He wasted no picking her up, and placing her legs around his waist before carrying her through the door to his apartment.

He tossed her onto his mess of a bed, jumping on top of her before she could really process the scene. She had only ever been in here one other time, and it was for the same type of situation she was in now. She hadn’t really been in the mindset to take in information, nor was she now, but she had enough wits about her to take in that the room was a mess, and a messy room reflects a messy mind, but she already knew that about him.

She tried to wrap her arms around him neck again as he kissed along her jawline, eventually moving down to her neck, but he growled and snatched her wrists, slamming the bed, and holding them there in a bruising grip. She giggled, J loved his control.

He had began to leave hickeys near the base of her neck, and around the back, carefully chosen spots her father wouldn’t see, but then he stopped, sitting up. He was still straddling her, but his intense blue eyes held a hard stare on her neck.

“Where’d you get these Harls, because I sure as held didn’t make them?” She was utterly confused at this point, seeing as only he had ever given her hickeys before, and they definitely weren’t on her neck. His fingers trailed along her neck, and when his finger pressed painfully into one of the marks, she remembered her father’s fingerprint bruises.

She squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze, as she was unwilling to give him an answer. She didn’t want to tell him about her father, there was no telling what he’d do with that information, but she knew it would just make things worse.

“They’re not hickeys J, I swear it.” She promised, biting her lip out of nerves.

“Then how did you get circular bruises on your neck Doll?” He leant back down over top of her, hand on either side of her head so all she could see was him.

“Let this one slid J, you know I only got eyes for you?”

“Doesn’t mean other people don’t have eyes for you.” He muttered, but he pulled her into a kiss anyway. He grabbed her by the wrists again, but this time using them to pull her into a sitting position, her on his lap with her legs around him. “So what does daddy’s lil harlequin want done to her today?” He asked as he pulled her shirt over her head.

Harlequin. She could have died at the mere mention of the nickname he’d given her, it was so clever. It sounded eerily similar to her real name, and as a harlequin was a form of jester, she was the perfect match to him as he was the ‘clown’. The name had even led to him calling her Harley Quinn, and Harley, which she loved even more.

“Anything daddy wants.” She giggled. She wasn’t expecting to become such a cliche girl with daddy issues, but daddy kink was hot as all hell, and he started it. “You got a condom?”

“Nah, I think I left them at yours.” He shrugged laying her back down on the bed, eyes hungry. However she put a hand up to stop him.

“No rubber, no Harley.” She said firmly.

“Come on Harls, it’s one time.” He practically purred running his hands don her body, making her eyes roll back into her head, but she shook it off.

“Nuh uh J.” She pushed him off her so he was laying next to her on the bed.

“So now what are we gonna do?” He whined.

“Get yourself a condom, and we’ll get right back to what we were doing.”

“Fine, then I guess we’re headed to your place.”

“Well I guess my dad isn’t home ’til this evening, and mom’s passed out last time I checked.”

“Then, come on.” He threw her over his shoulder, and basically sprinted across the hall, tossing her into her own bed, and digging around the tiny room for his box of condoms.

Harley just sat on the bed holding her stomach from laughing, as he looked frantically. She couldn’t contain herself when all she saw an arm appear from the floor over the side of her bed triumphantly clutching the box of condoms. His face was elated when he stood up.

“Phew,” he sighed happily, “now, back to business.”

Suddenly, Harley was smushed underneath him, as he attacked her with kisses, and the laughter stopped, this wasn’t so funny anymore.

“Making up for lost time,” he breathed as he place more hickeys on her breasts, he had marked her so many times at this point that there was no question who she belonged to now. Harleen Quinzel may have been enslaved to her father, but Harley Quinn only answered to J.

Blood was rushing in her ears, as he made his way down her body, and maybe that’s why she didn’t hear him. She was always so careful to listen, but she had made the fatal mistake to get caught up in herself. J was inching her pants off painfully slow went he burst in.

“So! You’re a little fucking whore now aren’t ya!” Her father roared, charging at them. Easily flinging Jack aside, he grabbed her by the arm, yanking her fully off the bed and onto the floor at his feet. The fall would no doubt leave harsh bruises on her knees. Then he grabbed a fist full of her pigtails.

This seemed to be his new favourite part of her body to drag her by. As a small kid, when her hair was the shortest, most platinum blond blunt bob cut, with choppy bangs, he went for the ankles. She assumed it was because he liked the thought of the uneven floorboards creating more bruising and scratching up her back as he pulled her across the floor. But as she got older, and her hair grew just a bit longer and darkened, her legs got stronger. She was beginning to teach herself gymnastics so she could kick her legs out of his grasps with relative ease, and she learned a few nicely places kicks could allow her enough time to run from the apartment all together. When her father caught onto this, he moved onto the wrists. It offered less pain for her, but much more effective in transporting her from one side of the apartment to another, and just as degrading. Although, when her hair reached its current length, and she started wearing it in pigtails, he found a way to bring intense pain back into the equation, and even more of a struggle for her as it was impossible to keep her footing with this method.

“I won’t have a whore in my house hold, you wanna fuck all the boys and be a slut, you can do it somewhere else.” His voice was low, and shaking. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him so mad. Her knees were scraped to pieces as he hauled her across the floor. Her mother was in the living room, just standing there. Staring.

“Fucking do something!” Harley yelled at her, tears streaming down her face. “You’re my mother, help me!” She screeched. Lillian Quinzel just dragged her haggard, broken down body back into the bedroom, and collapsed.

“Here we are!” Max declared, feigning enthusiasm. Her father slid open the window that led to their fire escape. The latter to the ground had long since rusted to nothingness, leaving a rickety frame you’d have to be suicidal to attempt to climb down from.

“Dad, stop!” She pleaded, crying, and struggling as he shoved her out the window, marooning her on the landing. She still was only in her underwear, and they were in the midst of a brutally cold winter. 

“Now, to deal with the sex crazed boy in your room.” He told her, before slamming the window shut, trapping her.

“No!” She banged on the window, screaming for someone to let her in

It was as if he left her on a deserted island. She could scream for help all she wanted, but no could hear her. 

She sat on the frozen metal platform for hours, watching the sky turn dark, and hazy, or maybe that was just her vision going blurry. Her body had moved on from shaking uncontrollably, to not moving at all. She could see the light layer of frost that coated her skin, pretty soon, she’d become a part of this damn fire escape, and it would be like she never existed at all.

You’ve never really been cold until you’ve felt cold like this. Until you’ve literally had no option but to stay where you were and take it. You’ve never been cold until you’ve had nothing to remotely helpful to keep you warm, not until all you could do was wrap your own bony, uncovered arms around yourself and wait. Not until shake so much you physically can’t stop until your body freezes over, and when you do freeze over, you’re so still you think you could be paralyzed. All that movement just stops, and you get colder. Once you have your own personal layer of frost you think it can’t possibly get worse, but every minute it gets colder, and you reach a level of suicidal you didn’t think was possible. A level where you can’t move a muscle, so you’re just begging so force of nature to take you out. Did I forget to mention the crying? Yeah, you can’t stop crying, and the tears freeze on your face and you’re even colder. You have never been cold until you’ve been cold like this.

When all the stars had finally lit up the sky, and it was inky black, she heard a small tap on the window. She moved her head as fast she could to see who it was, but as fast as she could was a slow, shaky speed, and she could hear her frost crackling as she did so. She saw to big green, glassy eyes, and then the window opened.

Harley burst into tears.

She had never felt so broken, and alone as she did spending that day on the fire escape. She had, at one point tried to shake the landing so the icicle directly above her would fall and end the day for her. The only reason she didn’t get up and roll off the side of the railing was because she was frozen in position.

her mother reached out an pulled Harley back outside when she realized she was so frozen she couldn’t move on her own. When her feet landed on the floor inside, she fell straight to the ground, and wept. So happy to be back inside, but also so damn tired. She was melting ice, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to thaw anymore.

“The boy has been knocked out on your bedroom floor all day, your father’s asleep.” He mother whispered softly, then she was gone as quickly as she’d come.

Harley lay there for what felt like another hour, but in reality it could have been five minutes. She had lost all feeling in every body part she had during the day outside, and regaining feeling was a painful process. The cold would bite and scratch at you until you could no longer feel it, but getting that feeling back lit your body on fire, and brought back every damning symptom of the cold the numbness relieved you from.

When her frosty legs could again hold her weight, she headed to her room. Her mother had said J had been knocked out on her floor all day. What could her father had done to him?

When she pulled back the curtain to her bedroom, guilt punched her hard in the gut. J was lying on the floor beside her bed, and next to him, the baseball bat she kept underneath her bed. She had brought this on to him. If she hadn’t insisted on being his friends, and pushed, and been so forward about her feelings for him, he wouldn’t be here.

She dropped to her knees and crawled toward his black and blue figure. His right eye was swollen, tinged a mixture of reds, blacks, and purples. That the only damage she could see, she knew her father well enough to know that damage would extend greatly underneath his clothes.

“J?” She whispered, praying she wasn’t talking to a corpse. “It’s me.” To her relief he grunted. “Hey, you’re alive,” she smiled despite their situation, “now open your eyes babe.”

“Can’t, hurts too much.” He groaned, only moving his mouth. She just hoped he was refusing to move, and not that he actually couldn’t.

“No, J, I need you to look at me, please?” Her voice cracked, and she was on the verge of tears again. At least rate she would become dehydrated within five minutes.

She watched him reluctantly blink his eyes open. The one with that nasty bruise surrounding it, was bleeding into the white of the eye, and he could barely open it, but the other looked intact. He shifted his gaze toward her, and his eyes flashed. He slid himself into a sitting position against the wall in so much haste, that it caused him to sharply wince in pain.

“Harley, what happened to you? You’re blue! Come here.” He opened his arms, and she curled into him thankfully. “Babe, you’re ice to the touch.”

“Dad put me outside all day, trapped me on the fire escape.” She explained, as he pulled the comforter from her bed to cover them. He obviously wasn’t moving tonight.

“How long is all day? How long have we been here?”

“Well, I’m guessing the reason he came home was because he got the call from the school about me being absent, so I think that was around 10am, and he probably got me outside around 10:30, so if my math is correct, I’m going to say around 13 hours.”

“With no clothes on? In the winter? You’re probably sick Harls!” He tightened his grip around her, rubbing her arms in a useless attempt to warm her up.  
“Yeah, and my dad probably broke multiple bones in your body.” She replied, utterly defeated.

“He’s not going to get away with this.”

“He always does.”

“So that’s where you got those bruises, huh? Pops likes to think choking you will scare you into behaving?”

“It works so well, doesn’t it?”

“And this cut?” She felt his fingers run along her hairline.   
“That be from my head constantly hitting the toilet after he practically drowned me.” 

“No one touches you, but me.” He was holding onto her now, she was sure he would leave his own fingerprint bruises on her waist. “Kiss me.” It came out of no where, so demanding, and abrupt. He wanted to feel something, feel they were still there, still on earth.

Blue, frosty lips met swollen bleeding ones for a perfect dance of the broken hearted.


End file.
